


celebrate

by Star_less



Category: Night In The Woods (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Presents, Comfort, Comfort No Hurt, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Minor Spoilers, No Sex, Not Beta Read, One Shot, a surprise, girls loving girls, maebea, some sexual references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 21:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_less/pseuds/Star_less
Summary: celebrateˈsɛlɪbreɪtverb1. acknowledge (a significant or happy day or event) with a social gathering or enjoyable activity.it's Bea's birthday, and Mae has a gift for her that she's not expecting.





	celebrate

**Author's Note:**

> I promised people this fic when I was posting in the NITW fandom last year and it never materialised. Until now - surprise! I've been writing it since April last year and just never been happy with it, until now.

Twenty-one. 

Bea didn’t like the sound of being twenty-one. 

Twenty-one seemed like the age when everyone was settled down somehow — either throwing themselves headfirst into college or working hard at their careers. Yet here she was, stuck in sleepy Possum Springs that seemed — even more so since they’d discovered the cult — to slowly be folding in on itself. Bea swore that one day Possum Springs would fold in on itself so much it’d become a tiny blot drowning on a map. So tiny, that everyone would disappear. This was a thought that she had occasionally — and more than once — expressed to Mae. 

‘Bea, that’s impossible.’

‘Since when were you the logical one?’

Anyway. All this thinking, tying herself up in knots, was hiding from the fact that now, today, she was twenty-one years old. 

“Snapper, come on downstairs.” Her father’s familiar voice drifted past the doorway, urging and rough. “Birthday breakfast.”

Bea smiled faintly at the childish nickname, feeling tearful, weighty memories of being a happy, bouncy, brand-new seven year old fill her head. She remembered running into her parents’ bedroom at 7:30 exactly, nestling into their crisp, cuddly sheets and tearing into the glossy, perfectly-wrapped birthday presents. Then heading downstairs for birthday pancakes, drizzled in maple syrup and studded with gooey chocolate chips.She wondered how much would be different today. Judging by the unmistakeable smell of sweet buttermilk pancakes floating up to her bedroom, not much.  
With a soft noise of exertion the alligator eased herself from bed and pitter-pattered across the hallway. Midway there, just at the window arch where the sunlight was streaming in and throwing twinkled rays across the stairs, she paused. Tucked away in the arch — like some weird not-quite shrine - was a picture of her, her mother and her father at Harfest. The background was faded and blurry, but the memory was vivid.  
Her father beamed at the camera, holding their freshly-carved Jack-O-Lantern. Her mother was to the left, grinning from inside the brim of a crooked witches’ hat. Bea was squeezed in between the two of them, beaming from ear-to-ear. She was in a matching outfit to her mother’s. _Amen._ Bea finished her prayer. She wasn’t the most religious person in the world, but the whole cultist Earth God thing had made her reconsider somewhat. The little window-shrine brought her peace. She liked to stand at it and pray, or speak to her mother. 

“I’m twenty-one, Mom.” Bea said slowly, her voice unusually even. Thick droplets welled in her eyes for a moment but she forced them away. “Feels weird. You met Dad at twenty-one.”  
_'Haven’t you met someone yet, sweetpea?'_ she imagined her mother saying in that slow, sing-song voice of hers. 

“Yeah. Met someone too.” Bea whispered. A fleeting smile came to her lips. “A girl.”

She sighed, and her grin seemed to quirk, momentarily intense — before it drifted away.

“Mae. Mae Borowski.”  
~

All throughout breakfast, that same girl was already messaging Bea. 

_Bea??_

_BEA!_

_BEATRICESANTELLO_

_b_

_BEE WHAT R U DOIN_

**Jeez. I’m eating breakfast, Mae. Trying to.**

_oooooh what is it??_

**Birthday pancakes x**

**_(She sent a picture)_ **

_That looks SO GOOD BEA sugar coma for days!!! :D_

**Indeed. :-) See you later?**

_Before the party??? I need to give u ur stuff!!_

**Ok. See you at 2?**

_Deal, meet u at pickaxe! x_

 

~  
Bea finished her pancakes with a soft gulp, smiling gratefully at her father. “They were delicious, Dad.” she nodded, smile breaking into a toothy grin.  
Across the table, Mr. Santello took a sip from his mug of coffee and set it down. He matched his daughter’s smile lovingly. “I’m glad, Snapper.” 

His voice was fond and Bea found herself trying to cling to the moment. She vaguely recognised that this was the first time in a long time that she felt truly happy with her life; though maybe that was just the birthday breakfast. 

“Anyway.” Mr. Santello leaned back in his chair with a smile, gently scraping it across the kitchen floor as he stood. “Aren’t you going to open your presents?”  
He grinned — this great cheesy grin, a mouthful of sharp teeth.  
Bea found herself grinning too, jumping up and following him to the living room. She nestled herself onto their well-loved couch in amongst a small pile of presents, lifted the first shoddily wrapped package into her lap, and slowly peeled back the paper. Once all the presents had been unwrapped and cooed over, that was that - Bea’s father did very little in terms of her birthdays since she’d hit her teens.  
He’d wrapped up some good things:

A new record.  
Some vouchers (for URevolution; breathing new life into her goth phase)  
Her first (legal) bottle of alcohol  
A small shot glass. 

And then she was left to her own devices because, ‘sorry darling, I’m busy today’ and ‘the shop doesn’t just stay closed because it’s your birthday, dear.’  
Sighing, Bea grudgingly agreed with her father and slung her rucksack onto her shoulder. Her wrists jangled annoyingly. Another one of her birthday presents - Mom’s bangles, twisted bands of rose gold. They weren’t Bea’s thing, they were much too girly and floaty and different against her all-black outfit. But Mom had got them from her parents when she turned twenty-one and that meant they were Bea’s now too. Bea didn’t mind, of course. They jangled against one another and Bea simply took it as a little message from her mother that she was still watching, still there, still proud.  
“I’m shutting shop early today.” Bea told her father nonchalantly as she was halfway out of the door so that he could barely disagree with her. “I need to meet Mae at 2pm.”As she shut the door and separated herself and her father, she was surprised that he was so quiet.  
~

Setting up shop and settling behind the desk, Bea realised that the Pickaxe was as quiet and as lifeless as ever — and the knowledge that Mae had something planned for her only served to make time drag on even slower than usual. She busied herself with the monthly spreadsheets, boring holes into the pages as she tried to calculate their monthly income and outgoings. But whispers, whispers in Mae Borowski’s voice, kept tugging her away from her work as she daydreamed about what Mae could’ve possibly got her. The whispers ranged from the mundane

a card and a necklace

to the outlandish

a pizza from the clikclak, arranged in the shape of her face

to the dirty, 

a dozen hot kisses parting her inner thighs.

~

At 2:20, Mae hadn't made an appearance at the Pickaxe. She had hung around that bit longer, in the hopes her girlfriend would turn up. But as time dragged on, Bea couldn’t help the sour sting of upset that swept through her heart like a dagger. She slowly packed up the spreadsheets, saved fresh documents and checked the till — though, the Pickaxe had been so quiet that she could count today’s income on one hand. Sighing, the alligator felt the (already small) sliver of optimism she had within her, drain away. She heaved her work bag over one shoulder and stepped out into the cool Possum Springs wind.

Only to bump straight into Mae. “Oompft!” the cat proclaimed, voice muffled as she got a mouthful of smoky goth t-shirt. “Hey, you were about to leave!” Pulling away, she looked accusatory.

“You didn’t turn up!” Bea protested, slanting her eyes slowly. She stood over Mae, as though she knew she had the upper hand. Both girls stared one another down for a moment, eyes slanted with slyness, mouths thin lines. A tiny crackle of tension-filled electricity bounced back and forth between them. Surprisingly though, it was Bea who broke the tension with a laugh of bliss and relief. “Come here.” She encouraged affectionately, clasping Mae’s cheeks. Mae’s fur bristled softly in the gaps between Bea’s claws. Bea pulled her close and planted a kiss to her lips. A soft, gentle kiss. Not as hot and rapid as birthday kisses, not as sticky or as electric as making out. Just a simple rosebud of a kiss, that meant Bea wasn’t really angry with Mae in the first place.  
Once they pulled free, Mae giggled bashfully at her girlfriend. 

“Sorry. I was… running late.” She whispered vaguely. Bea frowned a calculating puzzled frown at the tiny feline in front of her. 

“O-kay!” She slowly spoke, twisting on her heel and urging Mae toward her home, walking well ahead. Mae hurried to keep up before slowing her pace and ambled alongside the alligator; in between walking backwards and leaping up onto the low walls. Mae waited, and waited. And waited some more. 

“Well?” The cat burst after a couple of minutes of quiet walking. “Aren't you going to ask me what I was doing?”

(She had that grin on her face — the kind that near enough split her face in two. A proper shit-eater of a grin.)

“Fine.” Bea rolled her eyes, grinned all the same. “I’ll humour you. What’ve you been doing?”  
“A job interview.” Mae beamed. She looked proud of herself — eyes closed, smile wide. This information stopped Bea in her tracks. Her eyes widened, but happiness radiated from her in waves - happiness and pride.  
“Really? Seriously?”

“Deadly.” Mae nodded. 

“Wow. I’m… really proud of you, Maeday.” Bea smiled, her eyes brimming happily. She squeezed Mae’s shoulder affectionately. “That’s, like, the best birthday present ever.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Mae teased, tongue poking between teeth; leaving Bea frustratedly itching to get into Mae’s presents as they entered her home.  
~

No sooner had the pair gotten into the warm confines of the Santello household, Bea launched herself at her bed — legs folded, hands in lap. The house was still. Her father had left minutes before their arrival, gone off to deal with the store.

Mae looked shy as she entered the room — a rare sight for Bea. “Happy birthday, Bea.” She offered in a bashful whisper. The cat moved to sit on the bed with Bea, plopping down opposite her. It was then that she held out a wrapped package, covered in sticky tape and ribbon that stuck out at every angle.Bea smiled, easing the package from Mae’s grip. She was pretty sure that some of the sticky tape had Mae’s fur stuck to it. She smirked at the cat, holding up a little tuft of blue fur on the very tip of one claw. 

“Jeez,” she said fondly, as Mae ducked sheepishly. “I could clone another you with this!”

“What would you do with two me’s?” Mae asked thoughtfully. A devious smile crept onto her face.

“Cry. One of you is bad enough.” Bea told the feline, chuckling as Mae mewled in protest, then scowled and batted at her. The reptile was distracted, though, with tearing into her birthday presents — and mentally encouraging herself to savour the moment. She gently unpicked the ribbon holding everything together on this first, lumpy package and wound it around one claw before sliding the wrapping paper off.

Inside, were… 

two ballpoint pens.

“Huh.” Bea murmured, feeling a hit of guilt as she was unable to keep the disappointment from flowing out into her voice. “A… set of pens.”  
She took comfort in the fact that her disappointment was quickly clouded over with confusion instead. “Why?”

Mae squirmed uneasily, squeezing her paws together. A silence filled the room as the two simply stared at one another. “I don’t… I don't know?” she said at last, after searching for the words to say for over a minute. “They’re… pretty cool though, right? I, I got your name engraved on them, and everything.”

_She did?_

Bea lifted the pen up close to her eyes and squinted, before something glinted and caught her line of sight. Indeed, engraved on the metal barrel of the pen in the world’s fiddliest and most delicate font was, ‘Beatrice Santello’.  
Bea smiled faintly, lowering the pen down and setting it aside. “Pretty cool,” she agreed at last, squeezing Mae’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Now open this one.” Mae said quickly, moving the next present into view. It was just as messily wrapped as the previous gift… but after the disappointment of said gift, Bea’s flicker of hope was distinguished. Mae, though, was bouncing at the side of her, eyes trained on the packet. Perhaps it would be something good, after all.  
“You’re taking too long. Open it!” Mae whined, nudging the gator’s arm impatiently. Bea laughed and smiled all in one. “Okay! Okay. I’m opening it.” She reassured the cat, claws already slicing into the paper. She touched metal — cold metal that her claws tckkt-ed against, and pulled back for a moment, baffled. When she finally tore the wrapping off… there was a backpack.

A backpack. It was… something that made her heart skip for a second. She mentally kicked herself at feeling so upset over a backpack, but the thorny seed of sadness had already planted itself low in her tummy, and was already sprouting. She felt the overwhelming sense that sadness was going to overtake her. The crocodile focused on turning the backpack over and over in her hands, looking at everything — from the cold metal-toothed zip to the sewn-in silver stars on the pocket, to the (wonky) Witchdaggah pin badge stuck to the strap. 

“I chose that badge.” Mae’s eyes closed with pride as she saw a smile creeping over Bea’s face. “Was going to steal it. But, thought you wouldn't want me in jail on your birthday.”

Bea snorted. She smiled again. “Thank you, Maeday. It’s… I love it.”  
Her voice was soft and slow, refusing to betray her, refusing to scream, _‘well what the hell am I meant to do with this?!’_ like she so badly wanted to.  
Leaning forward, she was just about to capture Mae in a warm kiss of teeth and claws and cigarette smoke, when the feline — who was bristlingly close to kissing Bea in return - froze and pulled away. “Wait, wait!” 

The little seed of sadness in Bea’s tummy started blooming; this time, she couldn’t hide the frown that fell onto her face. “Wha.. why?”

Mae smiled in reply, holding out a thin packet. “Last present. Be careful!” 

Bea frowned at her, quirked a brow — movement slow and hesitant. Mae insisted, waving her paw at the package. “Unwrap it! Just be careful.”

Slowly, Bea peeled the glossy paper away. She peeled the paper to reveal… another sheet of paper, rolled neatly into a scroll. Frowning, Bea looked at Mae. “This a joke?”

“Nope! Read it.” Mae tried to hide the smile that was blooming over her face, but it was more difficult than she expected. She watched Bea take the scroll from its wrapping paper tube and slowly, delicately pull the ribbon from the top so that the paper tube rolled out into a sheet. It was as though time had slowed down. _READ IT!_ Mae wanted to yell at Bea, but didn’t want to rush her. She settled for wriggling on the bed instead. 

_Miss Beatrice Santello,  
We are delighted to hear that you’re interested in taking a position at the University of Hunwick this coming September… Following your application I am honoured to say that you have been given an unconditional position… should you choose to accept this offer, classes begin Tuesday 28th September._

This… this what? The _what?_  
Bea’s hands were trembling; the words on the letter bounced and jumbled together. Perhaps it was the tears coming to her eyes, the tears that she wasn’t quite used to. She looked from the letter’s words to Mae sat opposite her, mouth dropping open. She almost felt like nothing had gone in, as though her brain had suddenly been wadded by cotton wool. “This.. Mae, the..”  
It was the first time Bea had felt truly lost for words in a long time — nearly vulnerable. A part of her, a part deep inside of her, couldn’t stand the feeling — wanted to stamp it out, jump up and down on it until she had ground it down to some insignificant blot. But Mae had other ideas. 

“Surprise!” She cheered, hands outstretched, eyes slanted. 

“How.. how did you do this, Mae?” Bea asked, voice slow with awe. “How did you know?.?”

Mae would’ve liked to say something sweet, like, ‘oh, I just know you that well!’ but, that would’ve been a bit of a lie. “You know when your laptop got those weird viruses from that weird porn website, the one with the—”

“Never mind…” Bea sighed, blushing, though a faint smile appeared on her face all the same. “I don’t want to know.” She smiled again, this one wider than the one before it. College… she was going to _college!_  
Overcome, she pulled Mae into her arms and squeezed — nearly catching the feline off guard, who rewarded her with a yowl. “Thank you. Thank you, Mae. This is the best present I could’ve ever asked for.” She whispered slowly. “I can’t believe you got me into college.”

“What makes you think you’re going to college, Beatrice?” Mr. Santello asked in a steely voice from the doorway. 

Shit.  
Smile disappearing, Bea twisted to face her father. Her mouth was still open — opening and closing now, as the gator tried desperately to find some words — something, anything — to say to him. Mae was silent too; defenceless almost, with her own almond eyes widening in shock.

“The Pickaxe still needs employees. I can’t just let you go swanning off to some campus when I need the business to stay afloat.” He told her. His words cut through Bea like a knife — slicing open her dreams of going to university just… like that. The gator’s eyes filled with fresh tears and her breath hitched slightly as she tried to gulp them back. It was an ugly stone to swallow, but perhaps her father really was right. She was downright deluded to think she would be able to go to college on a whim when she was a Pickaxe employee.

“I… I could take Bea’s place, Mr. Santello.” Mae smiled timidly, her voice small in hopes of fanning the flames of Mr. Santello’s anger.  
Through the thick sheet of tears Bea could see Mae shifting beside her, though she was just slightly out of her eyeline. “Don’t worry, Mae,” Bea sniffled bravely, biting back yet another ugly sob. “I’ll keep my p—”

It was at that moment that Bea had finally turned to get a good look at Mae and… something was different. Her slouchy orange hoodie had been replaced by a pale blue polo, and… and she had a name badge, a name badge that said ‘MAE’ in obnoxiously big letters… and… and the logo on her polo shirt… was the _Pickaxe logo…_  
Penny dropping, Bea’s mouth fell open again. She looked, in a state of silent shock, from her father to her girlfriend.  
“Surprise again! Your brain isn’t as sharp as your claws, Beebee.” Mae teased, beaming. “I told you I had a job interview today. I just didn’t tell you who with. Now I can take your place at the Pickaxe while you’re off doing… smart student-y things.” She enthused.  
~

The month Bea had been waiting for had finally dragged itself along. Classes began in five days and Bea had just gotten settled into her dorm room. Almost all of her life had been packed into boxes, then unpacked — then, in some cases, packed up again. It had been difficult in some ways; saying goodbye to Mae, for instance, brought new tears.  
Now she was… _here_ … she was here and she was alone, and she’d left Mae alone… sometimes, Bea felt as though she was making the wrong choice. 

Pulling open her last filled box, Bea peered in and startled slightly, going still with thought. Perched on top of her belongings was the framed photo of the Santello family - Bea, her father, and her mother.  
The gator smiled faintly; she had thought she’d forgotten to pack it. Dad must’ve snuck it in.  
Though, looking around Bea realised there was nowhere in her dorm room she could create somewhat of a shrine for her mother, private or not. She settled for placing the frame on her bedside table — and did so slowly, her gaze lingering on her mother in a way that made it impossible to pull away. 

“I did it, Mom.” She whispered, one claw lightly tracing her mother’s scales, taking care to pay attention to every dip and wrinkle. “I did it. I’m here at college. I’m gonna do well, Mom. For you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this, even though it's not up to my usual standard - the end is a wee bit rushed. Comments and kudos are appreciated all the same, people! Thank you so so much for reading. If you'd like to see more, do tell me. :)


End file.
